The Lost and Found
by Mimiscout
Summary: Two Orphans look for family in the crazy world. It's not an easy journey full of mistrust, hurt, betrayal, and past lives haunting the minds of some. Will the two teamed-up Orphans be able to find home, family, or peace in their lives, or will it only spiral into more and more misery? RemyxOC LokixOC


I was cold.

That was strangely soothing, despite the tremors that shook my tiny frame. It was soothing, despite the tears that welled up in my eyes. And it was soothing, despite the fact that I could no longer feel my fingers.

Thoughts raced through my head- as I tried desperately to fight away the terror in my chest.

I would be fine. Something inside of me felt as if this was assured. As if there were some being out there watching over me, as if some being existed that cared about me.

In my mind, so tiny, and clouded with hope, I wondered to myself Does someone care? Is there someone out there making sure that I'm ok- from a distance?

There had to be, in this cruel world. Someone keeping me safe.

In my childish mind I believed this was rational thought. Of course it was not. There was no one looking out for me, but the foolish belief that there was let me rooted to my corner in the alley.

I would have stayed there, stuck on this foolish belief until my eyes closed and I was no longer real. I would have. Be it of hunger, cold, or of sickness. I would have died there with that belief, and been content because I was cold.

And wasn't the cold better than the hot? Now when I think back upon that thought that had flashed through my mind, it had been so very assured that the heat was the worst thing. It had been assured with a memory of a glimmer of fire- and the burning, melting feeling of my skin.

How was this? My parents I assume.

No marks remain on me, but I vividly remember fire, and the pain fire brought me before.

Before the streets, before the cold.

The cold was so comforting.

And cold was better than nothing, right?

I had been so foolish.

I would have died.

I'm so grateful that I didn't. I was granted such a gift by the moments that followed after I had decided I was comfortable where I was.

I felt the gentle touch of a hand on my shoulder.

My eyes had snapped open, and I had cringed away from the gentle touch on my shoulder. A noise, fearful and scared escaped my mouth.

And suddenly someone was talking to me.

It was so odd. I didn't catch the words that came out of the mouth of the person standing in front of me- because for the first time since before I could remember- someone was talking to me. Not at me. Not around me. They were addressing me, and- what where they even saying?

"-name?" I heard off of the tiny voice of the young girl standing in front of me.

"I-" I looked into her piercing green eyes- that looked almost aglow in the dimply lit alley way. A beam of light rested upon her face, so I could make out her eyes and the dark brown hair that stuck in different directions. A small patch of dried up dirt was on her cheek.

I felt odd as words came out of my mouth. I knew what I wanted to say it- so why couldn't I just say it?

My throat tightened and I retreated inside of myself, curling my legs up against my chest and placing my in between my knees and chest.

I hear her voice again, a rough gravely sound, but gentle and caring all the same. I felt soothed as her hand slowly came to rest upon my shoulder again, "What is your name?" she had repeated.

I shivered, and found myself curling into her sound. She seemed safe. She was so warm- but not hot and uncomfortable- it was comforting.

"I-I can't reme-member." my voice broke in the middle of the world and I felt tears swell up in the bottom of my eyes. Why could I remember the pain of fire against skin, the harsh demanding voice of who I assumed to be my mother, the hurt of-of being left alone on the street to die why could I remember that, but not something as important as my name?

She wrapped her arms around me, and the feeling of safety (so foreign to me at the time) wrapped itself around me, "I'm sure it will come back to you." she whispered.

It was foreign to me as I sat there, feeling safety for the first time in this harsh life. It was foreign to me the feeling of warmth- that was gentle and (dare I say it) comforting at the same time. All so foreign, yet, like an itch at the back of my head I could almost see images, I could almost make out a face, hear a voice in the throng of my blurred memories- and this voice, this figure was comforting and safe. Where they memories? Or merely something I made up to comfort me? Sitting there wrapped in the arms of a total stranger I remembered a time when one other had wrapped his arms around me.

He was a grown man. I couldn't tell if he was my father, a brother maybe, or simply a friend, but he was holding me tightly in his arms and I was lokoing up at him- and while all was blurry around this man- I could very clearly see his eyes. A striking green that bore into my soul, and could here his low voice whisper to me, "I love you. Remember I love you Si-"

I trembled in the arms of the stranger at this intense memory- and with this memory came a hint of my name. What was it? "I- I'm Si-Si-Si-aan." I stressed the middle sylabl tasting the name on my lips. It sounded very right, but not perfectly spot on. This was very, very close to my name, and for now- I feel like it fit me. It was right for now- whatever happened in the past was (is) the past, and now- my name is Sian.


End file.
